


Gray Tones

by SparksOfDesire



Series: The Color Scheme of Your Heart [2]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Alex Brightman is my Beetlejuice, Barbara and Delia are best friends, Barbara is also a bit anxious in this but what else is new, Beej is bad at taking care of himself, Beej still doesn't talk about his feelings, Beej's sad childhood, Beetlejuice Has Mood Ring Hair (Beetlejuice), Beetlejuice has a heart, Caretakers!Maitlands, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Insecurity, Juno's A+ parenting, Little Space, Little!Beetlejuice, Lovebug is the best pet name for Beej and nobody can convince me otherwise, Luckily he has the Maitlands for that now, Multi, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Some angst, The Maitlands are everyone's parents, There's also some humor in this I swear, beetlelands, lydia and beej are best friends, musical canon, soft beetlejuice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparksOfDesire/pseuds/SparksOfDesire
Summary: The continuation of the very poorly negotaited but still very heartfelt age-play relationship of Beetlejuice and his favourite ghostly couple; featuring nightmares, stuffed bunnies, and olives.**“None of that,” Adam chided fondly, smoothing out the lines on his forehead with his thumbs.  “Going to bed is not up for debate.”A look of deviance crossed the demon’s face, as if he was considering to initiate a debate anyway, but it faded just as quickly. They were right, after all, but the thought about the stupid wholesome sheets and his stupid nasty self still upset him. Or he guessed that's what it was, when his stomach was going all swirly and then dropping almost to his knee pits.**Contains Non-Sexual Age-Play.Can be read as a stand-alone, but will make more sense when you read the first part of the series.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Adam Maitland/Barbara Maitland
Series: The Color Scheme of Your Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900939
Comments: 17
Kudos: 59





	Gray Tones

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome (back)!

The Maitlands and the Deetz’ cohabitation was more peaceful than probably any ghosts with the breathers in their house ever had been. The Maitlands were a staple at every family event, and even for most dinners, which were, occasionally, cooked by them; to the relief of Lydia and Charles (although nobody would dare to say it to Delia’s face that her vegan meatloaf was something birthed by Satan, except for Beetlejuice, who no longer was an invited dinner guest when Delia had been in charge of the meatloaf). The women of the house had grown as thick as thieves, to be found huddled together cackling hysterically about something or other, usually at their husbands’ (or residual demons’) expense. Barbara was elevated to have a friend in Delia, and Delia was elevated to be near such a “gentle and positive spirit” like Barbara. They talked about everything.

…

Well.

Not _everything_ everything.

More often than not, the ghost had to keep herself in check to not accidentally let anything about the more… _vulnerable_ parts of their relationship with Beej slip into the conversation. They talked about said relationship a lot, mind (and Delia was, surprisingly, very interested in the dirty little details); even the Deetz’ had found a liking to the hyperactive demon, since he had been put on a tight one-shower-a-week and tooth-brushing-once-a-day schedule, which he begrudgingly but obediently followed through.

Just not the… well. The part Barbara so desperately wanted to talk about, because it left her out of her depth so profoundly.

Of course, the big, cleansing, enlightening conversation with Beej about _it_ had not exactly happened as planned- for one, it was significantly shorter and involved a lot less time to ask questions than both ghosts would have liked, and although it was the demon himself who initiated it, he still wound up on the roof sulking afterwards.

So, the current list of things she knew was laughably short compared to the list of things she should know but didn’t: She knew that sometimes, her demon felt, quote, “all soft and fuzzy” in their presence, especially when they were acting, quote, “like those super-boring, super-lovely milksops” they apparently were (“No offense.” “Some taken, actually.”); she knew that unless he was in this certain mindset, Beetlejuice couldn’t even say “Mommy” and “Daddy” and only just barely could press out between clenched teeth that he enjoyed when they took care of him when he felt like that; she knew that Beej had never had a childhood in the usual sense, that his mother had been cruel, abusive, and neglectful and that those experiences had scarred him more than he let on; she knew that somehow, there was a certain amount of shame thrown into the mix about “needing to be coddled like some sort of fucking loser”.

There had been no time for reassurances, no time for follow-up questions, not anything to hold onto that made Barbara certain she hadn’t dreamed up the whole thing.

So. This was where they stood.

Kind of.

A small moment of acknowledgment had occurred, but only very briefly, when Barbara had trusted a bunny, which she had sown in a fit of ‘motherly’ determination, in Beetlejuice’s hands. It looked quite beaten, all things considered, with her lack of skill and the patchwork of fabrics and mis-matching buttons for eyes.

But she had worked on it _all night_ , and she was determined to give it to him, before her common sense kicked him and she aborted the mission altogether (Adam said it was a sweet sentiment, but Adam really was a biased judge when it came to anything concerning Barbara).

Beetlejuice had looked at the stuffed toy in his hand with an unreadable expression on his face.

“For, uh, you know,” Barbara attempted to fill the silence and instantly wished she hadn’t. The demon tore his eyes from the bunny and fixed them on her instead.

“You made this?” he asked, his scratchy voice carefully devoid of emotion. His hair couldn’t settle on a color and whirled from one to the other in rapid speed.

She nodded, suddenly feeling dumb. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have, it’s silly-“

“Thanks.” Barbara closed her mouth with a click. The hair had finally settled on a soft pink with light gray hues. “I’ve never been given a gift before. Even if it’s for… you know.” He sat the bunny carefully on the stool next the model, half-obscured from view, as if he himself wasn’t sure whether he should be ashamed of being gifted a children’s toy, or thankful.

Barbara’s “Sure!” sounded too high even for her own ears, but before regret could hit her full force, Beej had pecked her on the lips and vanished from the attic.

“ _You know_ ” was the level of acknowledgment they were currently at, and although it was better than nothing, the ghost still knew it wasn’t quite enough.

But those things refused to be forced.

And Beej had begged- honest to God/Satan/Miss Argentina _begged_ \- to not tell a single living soul in the household. The Maitlands didn’t feel comfortable with keeping secrets from the Deetz, but Beetlejuice had never begged before, so there was that.

Between the second time it had appeared, their unsatisfactory conversation, and the bunny, she and Adam had done an abundance of research, which paired with the information of Beetlejuice, had helped her refine the idea of where they were headed. Google stated that apparently, such arrangements between “caretakers” and their “littles” (two terms foreign to them but still utterly fitting to how everyone was feeling) weren’t really uncommon, especially in established relationships. It eased some of Barbara’s anxieties to learn about other people’s experiences, something she had found calming even as she had still been alive.

But still, the next time it happened she felt horribly unprepared, even though she spent every free minute to prepare herself. In fact, it was very poor timing, but she didn’t even know if things like that could be timed, per se.

Another thing they had learned about Beetlejuice pretty early into the relationship, was that although he needed sleep, he avoided sleeping like the plague. This was, as they had also learned from experience, was due to horrible nightmares which seemed to happen far more frequently than the demon would tell. But they knew, because his hair held that unhealthy gray-ish, white color to it and sometimes, physical reminders of the dreams would linger to his awake body- as if it put the torments of the mind on display- like a smashed ankle or a gaping hole in his head.

This lead, more often than not, to the demon working himself into exhaustion, drawing out his rest to the latest possible moment. He needed considerably less than any human would, but still his form craved regeneration like it craved nutrition; and he was a very neglectful and unforgiving master.

Barbara and Adam had overlooked the signs, too busy cleaning up the attic, for the Deetz would visit them up there after dinner- and although it was technically their house, Barbara and Adam wanted to be good hosts to Delia and Charles, since they had been so very good to them. They usually left them space, so this visit in the attic was something special, and demanded to be commemorated as such.

So, they had been tidying around all evening as the Deetz settled downstairs for dinner (curtesy of Delia, to everybody’s hidden dismay), and Beetlejuice had deteriorated by the minute, until he resembled nothing more than a vaguely demon-shaped heap on the tattered couch. When Adam settled onto the armrest to catch a small breath (which he didn’t need, but always seemed to forget that), the demon looked up at him with a sluggish movement of the head.

Adam was about to comment on Beej’s lack of involvement in the tidying, when he was in fact largely involved in making it necessary, but he stopped himself once he got a good look at his lover’s face. He looked pale, even for his standards, and so utterly drained, that Adam didn’t have the heart to scold him, even if it was just playfully.

“Someone’s tired, hm?” he asked instead. Beej made a vague noise of agreement, before he clumsily hugged Adam’s leg and used it as a makeshift pillow. The ghost sighed a little. “You should rest more, Beej. What you’re doing is not healthy.”

“I’m already dead,” the demon sassed back, but it lacked its usual bite.

“That’s not an excuse,” Barbara remarked, now standing in front of them, tugging some stray strands of hair behind her ear, from where they had come undone from her loose bun. “We’re sleeping, too, and we don’t even need to.”

The demon hid his face against Adam’s slacks and grumbled something about them teaming up against him.

Adam only shook his head fondly at him and rubbed his back. Physical contact always seemed to do the trick whenever Beetlejuice was on edge/ being whiney (Lydia’s terminology, not his), and this time was now exception. Tension drained from the demon’s body immediately, and he nothing but melted into the cushions. Barbara sighed with a fond smile and sat down with her back against the couch near Beej’s chest, to rest for a moment as well.

There was a soft rumble coming from the demon, and the Maitlands shared a look. 

“Beej,” Barbara addressed him gently, her hand finding his jaw to get his attention. “C’mon, you can’t sleep in here. We’re about to have guests.” Of course, the Deetz wouldn’t mind, but Barbara would rather have him catch some undisturbed rest in a bed, than a short nap on the couch. And the nightmares, of course. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how devastated Beej would be, if he had a nightmare in front of them. He was a gentle beast and his ego bruised far more easily than any of them would have liked.

The demon opened his eyes slowly and Barbara’s dead heart gave a little jump. He had gotten that soft gleam that settled over his face, and smoothed the edges and the snark, and the bravado. Judging by Adam’s noisy exhale, he had seen it, too.

“It’s time for bed, lovebug,” she whispered, willing her voice not to shake although jittery nerves were shooting in her system.

Beetlejuice furrowed his brows. He had a very complicated relationship with the Maitland’s bed. He was a welcome guest when it involved sexy-times or even boring-ass cuddles; but whenever it came to actual sleep, his confidence would leave him. Feeling dirty and out of place against the clean, floral sheets, like an ugly bruise forming right against the soft cotton. He couldn’t stand staying with them when they were asleep; it made him nervous and hyperaware that he was the odd one out in their equation- the _addition_ , nothing more. And the nightmares, of course, made him even more nasty, so nasty in fact that the first time he had woken up panting with oozing wounds all over his body- old wounds of long gone times angrily reopened- he had considered flinging himself from the roof when he saw how his blood dirtied the stupid, wholesome floral pattern. It wouldn’t do much, but it would hurt for a little while. Hurt was cleansing, because he was used to hurt- he _understood_ hurt, unlike the bazillion of other feelings he had welling up in himself like vomit on a daily basis. Being alive, even for a few seconds, had thrown his whole biosystem out of its rhythm.

Naturally, he wasn’t the biggest fan of the bed-suggestion, so he frowned at them.

“None of that,” Adam chided fondly, smoothing out the lines on his forehead with his thumbs. “Going to bed is not up for debate.”

When they had discussed their ‘parenting style’ (and felt remarkably silly for doing so, since Beetlejuice wasn’t an actual child and was well beyond the point of being ‘parented’ in any way), they agreed that a gentle, but firm approach might be best for their stubborn demon partner. Even in his fully ‘adult’ state (if there ever was a fully adult version of Beetlejuice), he responded best to fond insistence- he was eager to please in a most basic way but tested the ropes constantly (but that was part of his chaotic charm).

A look of deviance crossed the demon’s face, as if he was considering to initiate a debate anyway, but it faded just as quickly. They were _right_ , after all, but the thought about the stupid wholesome sheets and his stupid nasty self still upset him. Or he guessed that's what it was, when his stomach was going all swirly and then dropping almost to his knee pits. If only he had something to keep his mind off of-

Hold on.

His gaze flickered to the bunny, slightly collapsed onto itself, half-hidden from view behind the model.

That was it.

A reminder, that he wasn’t the odd one out- that although the sheets were soft, and bright, and wholesome like the Maitlands, he still belonged there although he wasn’t those things; belonged to them, because they wanted him to. That they were his and he was theirs, although it was always so hard to believe it. He tried to be better and believe it more often, but it was _still_ hard.

Adam had followed his gaze and smiled brightly in recognition towards Barbara. ‘I told you, it’s a sweet sentiment.’ Even telepathically, she could hear the faint smugness in his voice. The ghost rolled her but smiled, nonetheless. The thought of Beej not only tolerating, but actually gravitating towards her gift, gave her a deep, profound sense of satisfaction. Like she had done something right, when having been wrong so often before.

As quietly as she could (and, since the whole being dead thing, she could be very quiet), she gathered the bunny in her arms, and brought it over to Beej.

The demon latched onto a yellow tartan paw without a single second of hesitation. The look on his face was pure, soft, and unguarded, as Barbara let him pull the stuffy towards himself. He pressed it tightly against his chest, bringing one floppy ear to his nose, to smell wood, and linen, and her. An old scarf, now kind of redundant since she would never be outside or be cold again, was used as a fabric supply for most of the bunny. The other were a hideous Hawaiian shirt (for the beach vacation they never took) adorned with blue and pink hibiscuses, and a black-and-white dotted tablecloth.

It should look stupid- it _looked_ stupid- but the way Beetlejuice cradled the bunny as if it was the most precious thing he had ever owned (all things considered; it probably was. All things considered, it was probably the first stuffed toy he ever owned- a train of thought Barbara willed herself not to continue), it wasn’t stupid at all.

“Do you want to be little?”

They’ve tried to initiate these conversations about Beej’s changing headspaces (even using these terms they’ve found on age-play blogs; Maitlands 2.0 or not, they were big fans of doing things the _correct_ way), usually with disastrous results, since Beej absolutely refused to acknowledge his desire or whatever terms there existed for it.

But now, when he was clutching his bunny with dropping eyes, he just nodded. Adam and Barbara shared a nervous smile. The timing was off, but they didn’t dare to break the tentative progress their demon made into having a healthier relationship with his own needs and desires. He had never agreed that he _wanted_ to be little (had, in fact, problems with voicing anything he wanted) - this was a big step for all three of them.

Getting their demon to bed was surprisingly easy after that. He had willingly traded his signature getup for a pair of dark-green plaid sweatpants and a purple t-shirt. Both felt soft to the touch (they didn’t really know where Beej got his stuff from, since it seemed to appear suddenly out of thin air, and the reply “Costume department” brought up more questions than it answered).

They even tucked him in (something he normally refused, claiming that the floral print was irritating his skin), his cheek resting against the bunny’s belly. As they got up to leave, two extra arms shot up from out of nowhere (honestly, they should be used to randomly appearing appendixes at this point, but it was still a strange concept) and encircled their wrists.

“Story?” the little demon asked hopefully, but also with a tint of sadness in his voice, like he’d expect the answer to be ‘No.’

He lasted one and a half stories (the first about the puppy Barbara got for Christmas when she was twelve, the second about their unsuccessful holiday-plans for Europe) before he was out like a light.

They shared a look over the sleeping figure of their demonic third, and they didn’t need to speak to know that they both, when only a little, wished to stay in here, to keep the nightmares at bay.

Naturally, Barbara was feeling out of sorts and kind of on edge, as the Deetz family visited them in the attic to look at the progress of the model. Adam showed it off with bashful pride and Barbara presented her bowls (one of them, as anticipated, for olives (they couldn’t eat, but that was utterly besides the point) and the other with bugs for Beej to snack on, which were, apparently “way tastier than _olives_.”), but her heart wasn’t really into it. Her heart violently tugged towards the closed bedroom door, which securely hid a little demon on their big, soft bed.

Sensing her agitation and guessing the reason for it, Adam placed a secure arm around her waist. It always helped to calm her down.

Her heart was still tugging towards Beej, though. Must be a motherly instinct. Or… something like that.

The visit was actually delightful, as expected. The Maitlands cared genuinely about the Deetz, and the sentiment was returned whole-heartedly. They created a mixed-matched family, completed with a certain green-haired agent of chaos, and it made everyone involved ridiculously happy. Lydia was smiling almost constantly now- a far-cry from the desperate, frustrated, suffering teenager she had been only a year before.

“Where’s BJ, ghost-mom?” Lydia asked around a mouth full of olive (she was strange and unusual like that), and Barbara beamed, because that was what she was now, ghost-mom. Ghost-mom and ghost-dad. The anxieties circling around their relationship with Beej had never once occurred with Lydia. They had taken to the teenager easily, like it had always meant to be. Maybe it was. How strange, and unusual, and wonderful.

“He’s taking a nap, darling.”

Lydia blew a raspberry. Sleeping was boring.

Barbara didn’t have a chance to reply, for she suddenly sensed a shift in the room- something was off.

That could only mean one thing.

She felt him before he appeared out of thin air- the bunny still clasped tightly in his hand. Something in Barbara’s chest constricted violently before it gave way.

His attention was solely focused on her for the time-being- he seemingly had forgotten Lydia and her parents were up in the attic as well. He only saw her, and there was something vulnerable and broken in his expression, which made Barbara want to be strong for him. To soldier through this- even if he would hate it, as soon as he was aware of what was going on.

“Mommy?” and his voice was soft and rough at the same time- a beautiful oxymoron, like him. Barbara heard Adam curse in her head. “I had a nightmare.”

The chatter had stopped abruptly, and Barbara felt three pairs of eyes on her back. She pretended not to notice and checked him over briefly for any lingering physical manifestations of the nightmare. There were none, save his hair. It was faint, a dirty white streaked with lavender.

She didn’t know if he would wake up little, and they had both hoped that he would just sleep right through the visit. But, as it were, none of these things ever went according to plan. And right now, they were about as far away from ‘according to plan’ as it could get. A desperate urge to giggle about the sheer insanity of this situation licked around the edges of Barbara’s mind.

It was then when Beej’s attention shifted, with an equally soft-rough “Daddy?”, his need for emotional validation too strong and too overwhelming to be shouldered by just one of his ghost-partners.

It was then when he spotted the Deetz.

A gray-ish hue immediately blended over the other colors. His eyes suddenly held a wild sheen, like a frightened beast (in many regards, he was). The softness vanished from his features abruptly, briefly replaced by genuine terror.

Adam took a tentative step in his direction. “Beej, Baby-“ he started in a whisper, meant only for their ears but everyone heard it loud and clear.

The demon let out a strangled sound and then he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> We love a good cliffhanger ending!! Stay tuned for the next part of the series to find out how it all goes down... 
> 
> MEANWHILE. Why don't you leave some kudos and a comment, we can chat about all things Beetlejuice <3


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